


Her Eternal Guardian

by laughingspirit13



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Family, Hurt/Comfort, I still love it so that's that on that, Is rise of the guardians still a thing?, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingspirit13/pseuds/laughingspirit13
Summary: Jack Frost was born into this world with powers of winter and a name. That was all he knew. Yet he still managed to make all the children laugh in a mere two days of experiments with snow and ice. Except one sorry soul, a little girl who lost her brother a week ago.





	Her Eternal Guardian

His name was Jack Frost. He knew this because the moon told him. He could control ice and snow and winter winds. Why he could do all this, he didn’t know. What was he suppose to do with it, he didn’t know that either. The moon never told him. 

It had been two days since Jack was born. Two days since the moon banished all the darkness and fear. In those days Jack had mastered his flying skills, mastered using his staff to create ice and learned that snow was a little bit trickier to form, but he was working on it. He had a lot of time, since no one could see him or hear him. Of course he used this time to cause a little mayhem in the weather. What harm was it doing really though? Who didn’t have fun with the freak snowstorms or ice freezes? The children certainly enjoyed it. 

All the children but one. In those two days Jack had managed to make every child smile, even when experimenting with his powers went wrong. Even if they did not know he was there and responsible for their happiness. But there was one girl, she may have been 7 or 8, who walked around with her brown hair blocking off her face from all the excitement. She always had her hat pulled down as low as possible and her jacket pulled tight around her, like she had to shield herself from more than the snow. Like it was the world that she had to protect herself against. 

On the third day of his birth, Jack Frost followed her. He followed her as she walked down the streets, as some other girls her age waved at her but she merely turned her head. He followed her as she continued to walk with nowhere to go, like she was running from something that was everywhere. Then he followed her home, to a place a little out of town. In the backyard there was a lake, the same one where Jack was born. 

In the house her parents were silent too. Her father sat in a corner with his head in his hands; her mother worked in the kitchen, looking for anything to keep her busy. The girl walked in through the back door that was by the kitchen, making the mother stop her work for a second before ignoring the girl and continuing on. The little girl’s father didn’t even look up. She marched to the back of the house, where Jack followed. 

The girl opened a door and Jack slipped in before she closed it shut tight. The room was a bedroom with two small beds pushed up on opposite walls. There was a single window on the back wall that looked out to piles of fresh snow, snow that was caused by Jack’s various experiments over the past three days. He leaned on his frozen staff in the corner as the girl walked aimlessly around the room. She did not take of her jacket or remove her hat, just kept pacing, until finally she jumped onto one of the beds. 

Her bed was messy; the other bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in for a while.

“Jack, Jack,” she pulled herself into a fetal position and stared at the opposite bed. Jack Frost jumped a little at his name, surprised, but realized soon she also couldn’t see him. 

“It’s been 7 days since you fell, Jack,” she whispered, talking to someone just as invisible to Jack Frost as Jack Frost was to this girl, “Is Heaven nice? I know you got there, but did you have to go so soon?” the girl started sniveling and pulled her hat over her eyes. 

“Mother and Father blame me. They say I wasn’t being careful enough, and that I should have watched what was happening,” the girl curled more into herself, her sobs becoming louder, “They never say that I should have fallen through the ice, but I know they think it.”

Jack started inching forward. What happened to this girl, what happened to this Jack? 7 days ago he died, 3 days ago Frost was born. If he were here just a bit sooner, maybe he could have saved this girl. Saved her from the pain. He wanted to see her smile, make her happy. It seemed really vital to do this. 

“Oh Jack, they're right. It is all my fault, all my- my- fault,” the girl finally succumbed to her sobs. Jack watched her as she shook with her sadness and guilt. He stepped closer and reached a hand out, but of course she didn’t feel him. Jack was at a loss. How could he make a child so filled with sorrow smile? 

“Sarah? Dinner,” the girl’s mother knocked on the door, but she didn’t bother opening it. Sarah ignored her mother and continued to cry, now whispering to herself, “I’m sorry, I’m so so so sorry.” 

Sarah, what a pleasant name. He had to make her happy. Jack pointed his staff at the window and focused on creating those flowery ice patterns. The windowpane froze up with swirls of frost, making a crackling sound on the glass that caught Sarah’s attention. 

When she was staring at the frozen glass with puffy red eyes, Jack carefully wrote with his fingers in the frost, making sure each letter was big and legible. He didn’t know what this girl’s reading level was, but he had to try. 

Carefully, Frost wrote out S-A-R-A-H. 

Sarah gasped and actually removed her hat. She half stepped half fell off her bed and walked slowly to the window. Jack froze the pane below it, letting her watch the actual crystals form. She took a slight step back as Jack moved his fingers across the glass. What was she seeing? Just ghost letters melting away the frost? Jack didn’t let it bother him; instead he focused on making his writing as nice as possible. 

He finished and admired his handy work, carefully watching Sarah as she read the words with disbelief. LIVE ON. 

“Live on,” she whispered once, tasting the words on her tongue, “Sarah, live on,” she said again. 

Sarah did not smile, but she did push her hair behind one ear. She pressed a hand against the second windowpane, leaving a tiny handprint that seemed too small for a child her age. She headed for the door, but before she opened it jumped back to Jack’s unused bed and ran her fingers along the blankets. 

“For you,” she spoke to the bed. Then she went off to dinner. 

The next day Jack Frost started a snowball fight and even got Sarah to throw a few. A few weeks later he learned how to make his snow magic, making each flake more fun than one could ever do with ordinary snow. That was when he got Sarah to smile, even if it wasn’t of her own accord. After that she started smiling more often.

Jack Frost was at her wedding. She wed a particularly handsome man who was the local blacksmith. Frost was there for Sarah as she struggled with her first born. Whenever the baby, Jack Jr., would cry Jack Frost would add a dash of magic snow to the baby’s day, making the burden easier on Sarah. He was there when Sarah’s parent’s died and when Jack Jr. caught the flu. And he was still there when Jack Jr. recovered miraculously. Jack Frost stayed with Sarah when her husband taught Jack Jr. the art of his trade and when Jr. finally took up the business. 

Jack froze the windows with flowery patterns one more time for Sarah when her husband passed away. She understood, even without the writing. 

He attended Sarah’s own funeral. Jr. and his wife stood crying in the front as Sarah’s coffin was carried through the crowd. Jack froze her casket with swirling ice as it passed him and watched the frost bloom over her wooden coffin. They never had a conversation, yet Jack was certain he spent his time wisely watching over her. Yes, Jack Frost thought as they buried her now crystal white casket, he couldn’t have spent those years any better.


End file.
